


The Vanguard

by strix_alba



Category: Cthulhu Mythos - H. P. Lovecraft, The Chronicles of Chrestomanci - Diana Wynne Jones
Genre: Crack, Crossover, Gen, Snippets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-28
Updated: 2013-02-28
Packaged: 2017-12-03 21:06:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/702642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strix_alba/pseuds/strix_alba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The waking of the Old Ones has not gone unnoticed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Vanguard

**Author's Note:**

> From a tumblr prompt, cross-posted there.

“I thought you said no one knew where they were!” Christopher stared at the creatures crawling through the Place Between in the scrying glass. They reminded him of the sea serpents in Series Five, if sea serpents also had many sinuous legs and other appendages that made it hard to look directly at them.

Flavian clutched his hair as he paced around the study with harried footsteps. “No one _did!_ The location of R’lyeh isn’t in any books in the castle library, not in any literature on this world as far as I know.” He spun around on one heel, hands dropping to his sides. Christopher struggled to contain the unpleasant giggle threatening to escape at the way Flavian's hair remained standing up in owl-like tufts while he gazed imploringly at Tacroy.

“Nothing in Eleven, either,” said Tacroy. “I thing the Dright was planning to send me to them if he’d known where they were.”

Christopher glanced at the scrying glass. The creatures flicked their not-quite-tentacles at each other, long jaws snapping, and he fancied he could hear them screaming through the glass. He tried to picture Tacroy among them, dodging their flailing lower limbs, and shivered. Over by the desk, the same thought seemed to have occurred to Flavian, because his face grew very pale, and he stared at Tacroy with a peculiar expression.

“I’m pleased he didn’t,” said Flavian in a strangled voice.

Tacroy grimaced. “So am I.”

Christopher looked at the creatures as they hauled their bodies over the rocks and mists in ways that didn't quite make sense. It was as if he was looking through a poorly made mirror or a reflection in running water, and it made him queasy to try to figure out how they were doing it. The fact that they could make him feel ill without even doing anything anything filled him with a spiteful kind of irritation, and an overpowering urge to take action. He dragged himself away from the scrying glass and planted himself in the middle of the room, hands on his hips. “What _do_ we know about these Old Ones, then?” he demanded. “And will they get here before G – Chrestomanci gets back from Series Three?”


End file.
